The Royal Gardens
by swishandflickwit
Summary: They like to pretend, see. Here, beneath the warmth of the sun and engulfed by the sweet-smelling perfume of the flowers that surround them, there is no one named Captain Hook and no one that goes by the Dark One. There is just she, the girl in the pretty, white dress and he, the boy in the long leather coat. 5x04 Canon divergence AU fic.


**People saw the 5x04 bts pictures of Captain Swan in the gardens. Emma was in a white gown, there was a flower, some kissing involved, cuddles on the horse and people cried, WEDDING!**

 **So.**

 **This happened.**

 **Honestly, how could I resist?**

 **Basically, I couldn't and so here, not a spec fic. Have some canon divergence au fluffy goodness.**

* * *

"Want to go somewhere?"

The side of her mouth curls, a dimple appearing on her cheek to match the one on his.

"Where?"

He bites his bottom lip to hide the grin that threatens to overcome his face and give them away.

"Come with me and you shall see."

She can't help the way the curl of her lips widens to a full-blown smile, though she knows exactly where they will end up.

So she whispers, even if they are positioned at the back of the room, if only to ensure that the council gathered at the Round Table doesn't hear of their plans.

(not at all so that her lips can graze his earlobe and elicit the shiver that runs down his spine every time she does the action, nope, _really_ , not. at. all.)

(and it's only natural that the goose bumps that dot the skin of her arms are due to the cold and is in no way associated to the way he runs the knuckles of his fingers from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine, which is so not his retaliation for her aforementioned playful gesture, _nu uh_.)

"Lead the way."

* * *

He takes her to the Royal Gardens.

No surprise to her.

It's perfect in that it isn't _too_ far; they don't have to worry that _her_ parents will worry about their whereabouts and gather the entirety of the king's loyal knights into creating a search party.

It's practically routine when he obtains a horse from underneath the stable boy's nose (" _Pirate_ ," he whispers mischievously at her feigned reproachful look) and they ride a quarter of an hour from the castle – far enough to gain a completely secluded spot but not so far as to be outside palace grounds.

Once they secure their mare to a sturdy tree positioned at the mouth of the gardens, he tucks her left hand into the crook of his elbow with his hook, before positioning it at the small of his back and together, they take a stroll.

They like to pretend, see.

Despite the kohl that rims his eyes, the leather he straps himself in, the cocky attitude he emits which he so likes to use as armor and the weight of 300 years worth of bad deeds weighing like an anvil on his shoulders… despite the strain of her smile, the tremor in her touches, the dim in her once bright, green, orbs and the taunting presence of the darkness at the corners of her mind, the periphery of her vision...

It all melts away here.

Here, beneath the warmth of the sun and engulfed by the sweet-smelling perfume of the flowers that surround them, there is no one named Captain Hook and no one that goes by the Dark One. There is just she, the girl in the pretty, white dress and he, the boy in the long leather coat.

Sometimes, if it gets a tad dull, they up the game and she becomes the princess in a glowing white gown come to meet her charming, young naval officer in the dashing, black leather coat; all for a forbidden dalliance under the secrecy of the gardens.

But no matter who they decide to be that day, as long as they can have their time in the gardens…

They can _be_.

Which is why when she asks, a coy smile playing at her lips, "who are we playing now?" he replies firmly, "if it's all the same to you, I'd like for us to be ourselves, today."

"What do you mean?"

She likes to think she maintains the nonchalant air about her but the way she tenses her shoulders, clenches her jaw and flashes her eyes does not fool him.

"You know what I mean."

She disentangles their arms before she continues their usual path down the gardens, her back to him.

"I don't like this game."

"It's not a game, love."

"Then what are you playing at?" She bites out as she finally turns to him only to find that he hasn't moved from where she pulled away from him, his place by the roses.

She doesn't like this, not one bit. This… the _Royal Gardens_ , this is supposed to be her safe haven, the one place she can be anyone but who she _truly_ is, the one place where, and as long as Killian remains by her side, the Darkness does not touch her. There's something about this refuge that makes the Darkness impenetrable to her here.

That is… until _now_.

She closes her eyes then cause she can feel it – it's in the erratic thump of her heart, the twitching of her hands, the rush in her veins.

It is power.

It is the _Dark One_.

But then roughened fingers touch her cheek in a gentle caress and with that touch alone, everything in her quiets again.

When she opens her eyes, she is greeted by a blue, _blue_ , loving gaze.

"There is something… something I'd like to say. It requires you, the real you, which, quite frankly, is my personal favorite version of you."

"And just who is that?"

It's funny because a little over a year ago, he was asking her the same thing ( _"Just who are you, Swan?"_ ) and she had sardonically replied before walking away.

There is nothing sardonic about the way he says, "Emma. Just Emma," because now… now he knows exactly who she is. Perhaps even, has known all along but was just patiently waiting for her to willingly fill in the blanks for him.

So she smiles and replies, "Well then, I suppose you'll have to do as Killian."

After all, no one does Killian like _Killian_.

And she has to admit, she loves it best when he's just being him, too.

He chuckles, thumbing at the dimple on her cheek. "Aye. Now that that's settled…"

Confused but intrigued, she allows him to take her left hand in his right as he deposits something onto her palm.

She's seen it before, of course. Has even felt the coolness of the metal against her skin as it nestled itself into a space between her fingers. It is one of his rings, the one with the blood red round stone set in the middle.

"O-kaaay," she says as she glances at the ring, then at him with an eyebrow raised. "If this is a message, I'm not getting it."

"Look to the side of it."

She does and she is shocked by what she discovers.

"Are those…?"

"Swans? Yes. Pairs of them, facing each other to form hearts."

True enough, she further examines the bed of metal that surrounds the stone to find engravings of elongated necks and beaks touching to form the aforementioned shape.

She gulps because he doesn't have to tell her to know that he's had this ring, long before he ever met her and long before he even knew she ever existed. The very first time she saw this ring, he was playing blacksmith in a ridiculous get-up, saw it even closer when he bandaged her hand on the top of the beanstalk. Hell, this ring is probably older than her, which means he's had it for a long, long, _very_ long time and _what the hell_?

"Killian…" she whispers, awe evident in her eyes.

"I know now, why everything has happened the way that it has. Why I have lived as long as I have. It was all supposed to lead to this moment. This ring is proof of that."

He takes a deep breath and she holds hers.

"It's you, Emma," he says as he has before only this time there is no pain behind the words… just softness and warmth and beauty and hope and _love_. "There shall never be anyone else for me. It's always been _you._ "

She whispers, "Even with the Darkness?" because she just cannot _believe_ the depth of this man.

His gaze is piercing as he says, "Aye, love. Even more so. You willingly sacrificed yourself in order to protect your friends, your loved ones. I am so in awe of you, Emma Swan. How can I willingly love another? Why would I ever want to?"

He closes her fingers over the ring.

"What are you…" she gulps once more, "what are you saying?"

She has a feeling she knows, but she needs to hear him _say it_.

"I'm saying… that if you please, take this ring as a promise from me – to ease your burdens the best way I can, to always come back to you, to cherish your heart and above all, love you and every version of you. Even if, for whatever reason, the Darkness grabs hold of you and you cannot love yourself, I will, just as you have done for me, _continue_ to do for me."

He kneels on one knee then and Emma feels as if she can't breathe and is breathing too much all at the same time because he's doing this, _actually_ doing this and some part of her wants to break and run because absolutely _nothing_ about this is dark. It is but a good moment when there seems to have been none in the past few weeks.

She's never felt more like herself than in this moment and for that she is so incredibly glad because forget about what she said before.

This is who she is, who she _wants_ to be.

She looks at the hope blossoming in Killian's eyes, focuses on nothing but that and that part of her, the _Darkness_ crawling its way to her, abruptly recoils and there is nothing but _light_. Pure and simple light.

"I'm saying that, whatever your answer is now, I am yours, Emma. But I'd like to ask anyway. Would you… would you have me?"

Tears spring to her eyes and Emma can only think of one answer.

"Only if it means forever."

She hands him the ring then and gently, reverently, he slips it onto her finger and it _shouldn't_ , but god, it fits perfectly on that particular finger as if… _as if_ it was always meant to be there.

As if it's found _home_.

She can't say she disagrees as she admires its place on her left hand.

When she turns to Killian, he has risen and is holding out a pink rose to her, no doubt taken from its bed beside them.

"Forever," he mutters as he slowly, sensually, skims the petals across her cheek, along her jaw, down her neck and shoulder, the line of her arm before circling it along the open palm of her right hand. The silkiness of it makes her shiver although, that too can be blamed on the intensity of his stare.

The love burning in his eyes as strong and as heated as the same one in her heart.

"Maybe even after then," he murmurs.

"Fine by me."

She takes the rose and circles her arms around his shoulders, the ring a welcome weight on her hand as she tangles her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

As she breathes him in, she thinks about how no one could ever really _own_ her but this… _him_.

She can make an exception.

Besides, is it really a possession when you _feel_ in your bones it is something that you both share?

She whispers then, "I'm yours, too," before she closes the space between them and they melt into one – lips, bodies, souls, hearts and all.

* * *

They like to pretend, see.

Well… at the start, at least.

And the gardens were the one place they could truly do that. In the gardens, they were invincible to the outside world and the cruel forces of reality.

Now it is a reminder of their truest selves, the life within it from the trees to the flowers and the soil and rocks they brushed upon being the only witness to this chapter of their love story.

There are no pretenses now, but as they gallop towards the castle and she rests her head between his shoulder blades, listens to him speak of how he can't wait to conquer demons (internal, literal, whatever they may be) together with her, she thinks…

Side by side.

Husband and wife.

It'll be their best roles yet.


End file.
